Lisa made her way down the train corridor, seeking out her cabin. Her rolling suitcase ambled behind her as she read out the numbers.
"22, 23... 24!" She slid open the door and stepped inside, then groaned. She had been hoping, due mainly to a perceived lack of interest in such an arduous form of travel, that she would be able to have a private cabin. But, judging by the carefully arranged luggage and personal effects around the seating across from hers, this was not to be so.
She sighed. At least the other occupant did not appear slovenly, and that would have to do, she mused, as she set her suitcase upon the rack on the free side.
She sat on the seat for a moment, wondering whether she was going to have to sleep on it like this; it seemed quite cramped. Consulting the pamphlet she received at check-in though, it appeared that the seat folded out into a bed. She wasn't thrilled about that, but she would make the best of it. After all, she was celebrating.
Lisa had just graduated from college. She had opted to stay at school over the previous two summers and, while she missed spending that time with her family, it had given her a chance to take extra classes, giving her enough credits to graduate a year earlier than she would have otherwise. She was going to fly back home and surprise them but, seeing as no one expected her home yet, she decided to take the more leisurely route.
The whistle blew, and the train rumbled as it pulled out of the station. Lisa sat with her legs tucked under her, watching out the window as the view changed from the college town and its surrounding city to the green forest beyond. She gazed unseeingly at the scenery for some time, lost in thought.
As the late afternoon sun settled on the horizon, her stomach let out a long growl. Realizing she hadn't eaten since breakfast, she decided to make her way to the dining car for some dinner.
Finishing her grilled eggplant panini, Lisa gazed at the wine menu, deciding on a nice red Bordeaux. As she waited for the waiter to return, she watched the other patrons of the dining car.
There were a few couples, some businessmen discussing a mix of contracts and conquests, and a number of lone diners. The table in front of her was empty, but at the next table down sat an individual who had been engrossed in reading a newspaper since she had entered. They appeared to be the only person she noticed who was content to read, and it made her jealous; she wished she had thought to bring a book in there with her. Lisa gazed around for the waiter.
The sound of the newspaper rustling as the individual closed it brought Lisa's attention back to them. But she was not prepared for who it was that was sitting there.
"AHHHHH, SIDESHOW BOB!" Lisa screamed, pointing. She quickly coughed, trying to regain some sense of composure. "Sorry! Sorry!" She laughed nervously addressing the other patrons, who were all staring at her in surprise, disgust, and disbelief. They slowly went back to their business as Lisa closed her eyes and groaned in embarrassment.
"Lisa Simpson? Is that you?" There was surprise, and even a touch of amusement, in his rich baritone.
Lisa opened her eyes and looked at him, smiling and laughing nervously.
"Hello, Bob," she said, her voice coloured by embarrassment.
"Lisa! What are you doing here?" He sounded genuinely intrigued.
"Me? What are you doing here?" There was a touch of incredulity in her voice. Bob laughed and stood, smoothing the front of his suit jacket as he did so.
"May I join you at your table?" He asked with a gesture toward the open seat. Lisa paused for a moment, but then realized she might be gawking.
"O-of course!" She said.
As Bob sat down, the waiter appeared.
"May I get you any desserts or drinks?" He asked them.
"Oh, uh, yes," Lisa faltered momentarily, then cleared her throat. "I'll have the Bordeaux, please."
"Excellent choice," Bob said, as the waiter opened his mouth, presumably to say the same. "Make that two," he added, and the waiter nodded before walking away.
"So, what are you doing here?" Lisa asked. "Last I knew, you were still in Springfield Penitentiary." She grinned nervously, fearing that had been a bit rude, but Bob smiled.
"Ah, that seems like so long ago," he said, sounding a little wistful. "Well, I was in Springfield Penitentiary, until a few years ago. You see, because of my record of attempts at, well, murdering your brother," he grimaced slightly, "I was chosen for a program at another facility; one in Costa Rica."
"Costs Rica?!" Lisa asked with surprise. Bob chuckled.
"Indeed. They have quite advanced medical and correctional facilities there and, because they are not controlled by private interests, they actually work to rehabilitate their citizens."
The waiter arrived with their wine, pouring them each a glass.
"You may leave the bottle," Bob said, and the waiter nodded once more before leaving. "Cheers," he smiled, and Lisa clinked her glass to his before sipping her drink. "Now, where was I? Oh, yes, Costa Rica. I was transferred there as part of a government test evaluating the efficacy of such a program on chronic repeat offenders. I spent three years there, undergoing a series of treatments including various types of therapy. I uncovered many of my underlying issues, and I worked through them; quite successfully, I might add." He paused to sip his wine. "I was evaluated by Costa Rican and American doctors, psychologists, and government officials, deemed fit to renter society, and granted my freedom. I was released six months ago, and I spent some time traveling through Central and South America. I decided it was time to return to Springfield, finally. Only then could I be sure that I am fully recovered."
"Wow," Lisa said. "Do you... think you're cured?" She tried to sound casual, but knew her nervous edge betrayed her. Bob smiled warmly at her.
"I believe I am, but I want to be certain. I can honestly say that it has been years since I last entertained homicidal thoughts about your brother. Seriously!" He smiled genuinely.
"Bob, that's wonderful!" Lisa beamed. "I'm very happy for you," she added, raising her glass to him.
"Thank you," he said, genuinely pleased. "But what about you? You've grown so much since I last saw you; you were what, 8? That much time could not have possibly passed."
"I was 16 the last time I saw you!" Bob almost choked on his wine.
"That's not possible! I recall you being the overly intelligent young girl that... you've... always been..." Bob made an odd face as a realization dawned on him. "I must have always viewed you as being the 8-year-old who foiled my first plan, never allowing myself to really view you differently, even in the few interactions we had where you weren't interfering with my malicious schemes. I do apologize." He had the grace to look sheepish. Lisa smirked amusedly.
"Perfectly understandable," she smiled. "As to what I'm doing here, I'm on my way home to visit my family. I'm surprising them; they don't know that I graduated college a year early."
"Lisa, that is amazing! I feel even more foolish now for not realizing how you've grown. Though, honestly, I must say that I am surprised you did not skip high school altogether and go straight to college."
"B-ob!" Lisa blushed brightly.
"It's the truth, and you know it," he said with stern amusement.
"Thank you," she beamed, and he raised his glass to her.
"Well, it appears that this trip is to be one of celebration for both of us. To you, Lisa, for continuing your journey of academic excellence in a most exemplary fashion." Lisa raised her glass as well.
"And to you, Bob, for exorcising your demons, and preparing to face your past in such an admirable manner. I am truly proud of you." They clinked their glasses again and emptied them.
Lisa and Bob conversed for some time about her academics, debating their differing viewpoints on a number of subjects, and laughing about the state of general academia. As they neared the end of their second bottle of wine, their conversation had turned toward reminiscing about Springfield.
"I remember when you took over Krusty's show," Lisa said, her head swimming from the wine.
"Ah, yes," he sighed. "The 'Cavalcade of Whimsy'." With a small, unamused chuckle, he rested his chin on his fist and gazed out of the window, not really seeing the passing landscape.
"I really liked that show," she said, her eyes downcast shyly as she sipped her wine.
"Yes, well, our ratings managed to sustain after Krusty left," his face hardened as he continued to look outside. "So long as we showed Itchy and Scratchy, the masses continued to tune in, and-" he stopped abruptly and turned to look at her. "Wait one moment," his face became puzzled, but softened slightly. "You... enjoyed it?" Lisa looked up at him with a bashful grin.
"I did. You brought intellectualism to the imbecilic hordes, while offering them their simplistic vice of senseless cartoon violence as a Pavlovian reward." Bob stared at her for a few long seconds before a bemused grin spread across his face. She smiled back and blushed hard. Bob laughed warmly.
"I must say, it does mean quite a lot to me coming from you of all people."
"Wha?!" She sputtered a bit gormlessly. She cleared her throat. "I mean, why should my minute opinion matter to a mind such as yours? I mean..." she sighed in exasperation, loathing that her ineloquence had shown. Bob let out a hearty laugh, which caused her to turn a further crimson.
"Lisa, please. Your honesty brings a joy to me that I haven't experienced in entirely too long. You don't have to constantly wax eloquent in front of a master of buffoonery such as myself," he said, affecting a haughty air for further comedic value. Lisa giggled.
"Do you still... have the grass skirt and bone necklace?" She smirked, but it was lacking any sarcasm; rather it was concealing something else. Bob quirked an amused brow.
"But of course," he grinned with overly exaggerated lasciviousness. "How could I be the man you see before you without such fineries?"
"I'd like to see it sometime," she tittered.
"I'd like to show it to you," he said in a low purr. Lisa gave him a look of intrigued surprise.
"The dining car is now closed," came an announcement over the speakers. "It will reopen at 6am for breakfast, and we hope you will join us then." They both groaned and rolled their eyes in unison. "Please exit the cabin in an orderly fashion, and have a wonderful night."
"I suppose we should go," Bob said, draining his glass. "I am thankful I had the foresight to bring along a few bottles of wine." Lisa raised her eyebrows, and Bob chuckled deeply. "Would you care to join me?"